Dark Blue (Half Past the Point of Oblivion)
by poire-gourmande
Summary: A broken heart can be forgotten, but you realize you aren't over her when you see her.


**Dark Blue (Half Past the Point of Oblivion)**

You're bored out of your mind, stuck at home at this sucky party Berry decided to throw to celebrate the summer vacations with her NYADA friends. You down another drink and curse at yourself – you're in New York fuckin' City and you can't find anything else to do on a Saturday night than drinking with snobby wannabes.

You could go out, dance, meet girls, or something. You've been stuck in a rut for a few months now, and you don't know why – or maybe you just refuse to admit it.

That is, until the reason for said rut walks straight through the front door and is greeted by Berry.

"Oh my god, you came!" the hobbit exclaims in her shrill excited voice that makes you want to light yourself on fire.

Quinn smiles and hugs her, pours herself a drink, says hi to a couple of people she knows throughout the room, unaware – or so it seems – that you are watching her every move. She finally turns and makes her way towards you with _that smile_ – a smile that makes you forget everything you wanted to say to her, everything about broken hearts and shattered hopes and never calling.

And suddenly she's right there, hugging you in that way of hers that is so innocent but so teasing at the same time – she slides her arms around your waist slowly, y, and rests them at the small of your back and you can feel her heat irradiate through the fabric of your dress, like a sweet burn. And then she kisses you like she always does, on each cheek – or is it the corner of your mouth?

She asks how you're doing and you manage to answer "good" without freaking out while everything you want is slam her down on your bed and forget this past months spent without her. You're pretty sure you managed to convince her that you didn't wish for anything more than that two-time thing back in February – that, in fact, you hadn't think of that in months.

But she's filling your glass again and chatting away about how you really did expand her horizons that night and how grateful she was because she got to have some great experiences with that girl from her Feminist Studies class and you almost drop your glass.

You slowly realize that while you were trying to get over the only two girls you let into your heart, she's been having fun with that new side of her you help her discover.

And that hurts like a bitch.

You'd like to be alone, but it's a fucking loft – there's people everywhere, and no walls.

But maybe that's your problem. You've been building walls around you for so long, you never let anybody in – and when you did, you didn't let them know, so they went and broke your heart. So you ask yourself – what's the worst that could happen? She has known you forever, and, well, your heart can't break any deeper than it already is, right?

So, you down your glass and make your way to the fire escape, hoping that she follows you.

And she does, she calls your name and goes after you when you don't bother to answer. She ducks out of the window and finds you sitting on the stairs. For a moment, you stare at each other in silence, and you can't help noticing how her dark blue dress against the dark sky makes her blonde hair so beautiful – you always had a thing for blondes.

Quinn sits next to you and she looks completely different than before – not cheerful and chatty, but worried, caring.

"What's going on, Santana?" she asks softly.

And even though it's exactly what you wanted, it takes all you've got not to run away from her – from your feelings. So you take a deep breath and you drop the act.

"I wish it meant something, that night. You said it was not your thing, and you know, I was okay with it being a one-night thing, we both needed it. But then you stop calling and you come in here talking about all the lesbian action you got while I was over here, desperately trying to get over both Brittany and you, and it kills me."

You can't bear looking at her – you don't want to look at yourself in her eyes – but she takes your hand and starts talking and the pain in her voice is just too much and you turn to look at her.

"I was scared, Santana. I was scared of the feelings I had for you, of wanting what you had with Brittany, so I ran away to Yale. I tried to forget you but I couldn't. At the wedding, I thought that one drunken night would be enough to get you out of my system but it wasn't. One night with you could never be enough, I know that now. But I couldn't say anything to you because I thought you wanted some no feelings / no strings attached thing. And I stopped calling because it hurt too much."

She stops talking for a while, to bite back a sob and wipe away her tears. "And tonight I talked about some lesbian experience I never had – I dunno, I guess I wanted to show I was over you – or maybe it was a way to say I was still open to a girl thing – "

You realize you're crying as well, but somehow you feel better than you've felt for a year. You get up and pull her up and you look at her, smiling hopefully. Her eyes are bright with tears, but she's smiling too – so you allow yourself to hope again.

Her fingers graze against your skin and you lean in.

It's all coming back.

The smell of her skin and the taste of her lips, the way her breasts press against yours, her fingers dancing down your back –

It's finally here after months of longing, of almost-forgetting.

She pulls back and smiles, biting her lip in that irresistible way of hers.

"I really want to be with you."

"Like, tonight?" you ask, still unsure.

"Like, all the nights. And days, too," she adds, giggling.

After some more kisses – which make you want to undress her right there on the fire escape – you go back inside. The party is still in full swing – and strangely, the Broadway geeks aren't drunk enough to do a sing-off yet. You decide you might as well enjoy yourselves, since your bedroom as been taken over by some ballet students doing body shots.

So you drink and dance and flirt, and you might throw one or two Barbras out while Berry wasn't looking, to speed up the end of the party.

Finally, there's only you two and the Broadway twins left sipping wine in the living room. You take Quinn by the hand and wink at her, making your way towards your bedroom, and you turn towards Kurt and Rachel:

"I hope you have good earplugs, ladies. This one's a screamer!"

You chuckle at their stunned faces, replace the room partition and put on some music. Quinn is already waiting for you on your bed, staring at you in the most lustful way, and it's all you can do not to jump her bones right this second, but you've been waiting for this moment for so long so you kinda want to take your time and savour it.

You lie next to her, slowly, and you let your fingers rediscover her, the way her spine curves just above her ass, the softness of her skin, and she closes her eyes and lets you undress her, careful but hungry at the same time. She's naked under you and she smiles, and you realize her smile might be the one thing you like most about her – because it can be calculating and cunning, teasing and enticing, or loving and happy, like it is right now.

The room is only lit by the streetlights outside, yet you're blinded by the brightness of her smile, beaming at you while she unzips your dress. Her fingers trace your spine, teasing your skin and making you shiver.

You sit up and she throws your dress across the room. She unhooks your bra with expert hands and slides the straps down your arms, excruciatingly slowly, and the way she looks at you makes you feel like a worshipped goddess. You kick off your panties, because you can't take much more of not touching her. She gasps when she sees you, finally bare before her. You push her back on the bed and you straddle her, feeling her tremble in anticipation between your thighs.

You lean down to kiss her. Your lips meet and so do your breasts, and the touch is electrifying, so you press closer to her, felling her chest heave against you as she pants in your mouth. Her tongue tastes yours and you bite her lower lip, drawing a long-awaited moan. She sounds throaty and enticing, and you just want her to make that sound again, so you move further down the bed and you take one of her nipples between your lips. She tangles her fingers in your hair as you tease and bite the rosy bud, playing with the other with the tip of your fingers.

She's digging her fingers into your scalp, but you're craving more. You share an understanding glance and you turn around, kneeling above her and leaning down to taste her. Her hands grab your ass, squeezing harder when you bury your tongue between her folds. She does the same, imitating your kisses, bites and licks. You don't know what feels better – pleasuring her and savouring the taste of her on your tongue, or the way she knows how to do it just right, almost bringing you over the top but not quite yet.

You press her head between your thighs and she licks even harder and you know you're gonna come apart right this second if she doesn't stop. So you try as best as you can to keep on between your moans and soon enough, she's squirming and screaming, her fingernails digging into your skin.

She screams your name and bites your thigh as she comes and it's all you need to explode. You collapse on top of her, trying to catch your breath and you can feel her panting under you. You finally roll over and lie next to her. You share a tender kiss, and you can taste yourself on her tongue. It's arousing, but you're so exhausted you can't even think of moving.

"Next round tomorrow?" you whisper.

She nods and cuddles closer to you, kissing your shoulder.

This time, you're never letting go.


End file.
